Canvas
by Cella N
Summary: There was an entry in regards to birthday parties. SAKURA. SAI. It's paved with good samaritans.


**Spoilers:** Everydamnthing. Set during Naruto's training with the frog – back when things weren't going to hell in handbaskets.  
**A/N:** Writted for Sai's birthday, posted because I am so impatient.

**Canvas**

_  
I know that you're an artist,  
you're the hardest one to deal with.  
Everything that you conceal  
is revealed on your canvas.  
The Hush Sound, "The Artist"_

In the several books Sai had taken out from the Konoha Library – which had, in time, proven to be very useful, especially in understanding women (Sakura type) – there was an entry in regards to birthday parties.

_Always be amiable. Try to smile and thank people for their presence, if it's your birthday. Show gratitude for all the presents, even if you do not like them._

Well.

Faced with the two-layers white cake, Sai wasn't sure what to say. It was Sakura's present, that much he knew – actually, he knew that much because for some reason, Sakura was the only one who'd found out when his birthday was (in a combined effort of both pulling the information out of him, and discretely pulling the information out of Konoha's records). No-one else knew, and even if they did, Sai doubted the rest of Rookie 9 were as friendly with him as Sakura. Or _trying_ to be friendly. Or maybe Sakura was like that, and that was it. Nice, and helpful and always trying her best to help her teammates, except when maiming them for testing her patience – which was frequent.

Sai idly wondered why she was the only one in her house, where she'd invited him on the basis that she had something to tell him about the mission. He'd followed, yes, thinking that she was either going stupid with the pass of time, or she was lying and needed his help for something different. Or maybe this was a bond thing.

Either way, he'd followed, and here they were, in Sakura's apartment – apparently, she lived alone; not due to trouble with her parents, she just enjoyed the independence, she'd told him – and in front of them, a huge, white cake. Probably vanilla or lemon, he ventured a guess.

"Naruto's training, otherwise he'd be here with us too, if he'd known it's your birthday," she said, coming into the room with a tray. There was a pot on the tray, and two brushes. When she placed the pot on the table beside the cake, he realised that inside it was nothing other than hot chocolate. "This," she started, pushing a brush into his hand and taking one herself, then pointing at the cake, "is your canvas. I figured, since you're an artist, the best present is to let you make your own present. So...go ahead."

Sai observed the cake – a very weird canvas indeed – and the brush, and the chocolate sauce, and smiled very briefly. She knew him too well. He wondered who she knew, though – Sai, his persona for this long mission, or who he really, really was. This being Sakura he was talking about, he ventured she knew them both. "Normal presents would be objects such as books," he pointed out, dipping the brush into the chocolate.

"I've no money. It's not polite to criticize presents," she snapped, gripping her brush in such a way that made Sai hurry and draw one line on the cake, gently, to please her. It worked. "Do you like it?" she asked, biting her bottom lip in hesitation.

Sai looked at her, at her mouth, then moved the brush over her skin, painting a chocolate smile. "It's minimally better now," he said.

The nerve in her eyebrow twitched in irritation, so Sai, having learned the mysteries and workings of Sakura, hastened to fix his mistake. By no other way than brushing off the line of chocolate with his thumb. He noticed that her breath hitched, possibly because of anger and the fact that the smudge was still there, so he leaned in, intending to lick it off.

His face met a handful of cake instead.

"E-eat your goddamn cake, and happy birthday!" Sakura shouted, blushing red from head to toe and rubbing furiously at her cheeks.

Later on, if one would ask Sai why he had the bright idea of starting a cake fight in the middle of Sakura's living room, he'd say that he was not. He was simply trying to share. After all, it was stated that way in the book.

_Sharing is caring._


End file.
